


All My Fires

by Itsagrifthing



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood Gulch Chronicles, Canonical Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9411767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsagrifthing/pseuds/Itsagrifthing
Summary: They tell me my name is Church. Leonard Church. They tell me that I’m a private in the Great War against the Red team. They tell me that I slipped on a wet spot and hit my head, knocking my memories right out of me. They tell me that I am a soldier, that is all I have ever been, and that is all I will ever be





	1. Days 1 & 2

 

They tell me my name is Church. Leonard Church. They tell me that I’m a private in the Great War against the Red team. They tell me that I slipped on a wet spot and hit my head, knocking my memories right out of me. They tell me that I am a soldier, that is all I have ever been, and that is all I will ever be.

Honestly? I think it’s all a bunch of bullshit.  

It’s probably not my place to say so, but I’m going to anyways. I’m gonna come right out and say it: something isn’t right, something is extremely wrong, something is _missing…_

And I’m gonna find out what.

But first, let me tell you my story.

 

* * *

 

Day 1.

Captain… _Flowers--_ seriously, what kind of a name is that?!-- took us up the left side of the cliff to go spy on the Reds a few minutes after he finished explaining the whole deal to me. I was still doubtful about whether or not I should have gone, since I had just woken up from a traumatic head injury, but Flowers insisted I was fine. Turns out, I _wasn’t_ fine. I passed out two separate times once we were on top of the cliff, and the second time, I almost fell off. The Captain decided to call it quits the third time I started to sway, and we headed back to the base amidst Tucker’s whining.

Private Tucker. God, man, don’t even get me _started_ on him. He has the maturity of a teenage boy who’s going through puberty, the intellect of a below-average middle schooler, the hygiene habits of a first grader, and his ability to listen, follow orders, sit still, shut up, or do pretty much anything at all rivals that of a pre-schooler. I didn’t think it was possible to hate a guy so much. Guess the universe just loves to prove me wrong.

Anyways, we headed down the mountain amidst his whining (I didn’t even know _what_ the fuck he was whining about. Sniper rifle? Armor colors? The fact that the only people in this canyon are guys?) and Captain Flowers retreated for his afternoon nap. For some reason, dude loves his naps. He has a sleep schedule set and everything. And God help anyone who tries to wake him up. Unless somebody died, or your balls are on fire, he’ll rain hell down on you. Trust me. I know.

Dinner was one of those god-awful MRE’s that I’m somehow already accustomed too. Captain Flower made them, and let me tell you, I didn’t think they could get any worse than they already are. Is it possible to burn a self-heating meal? Again, the whole ‘universe loves proving me wrong’ thing.

Flowers made us go to bed at 8:30 after a daily ‘Group Counseling’ session. I had to share a room with Tucker.

I only had one day of Blood Gulch that I could remember, and I hated it already.

 

* * *

 

 

Day 2.

 

I woke up to explosions, which were a bit more my speed. Fuck sitting around on our asses all day, let’s see something _interesting_ happen… and no, Captain Flower’s reenactment of Les Miserables does not count.

I leapt out of bed immediately, and spent a whole five minutes searching for my armor before I realized I was already wearing it. Tucker stirred in his bed and yawned.

“Dude, what the fuck?” he asked lethargically and sat up. “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Sleep?!” I screeched, grabbing the standard-issue battle rifle Flowers said was mine. “We’re being attacked!” Tucker just shrugged.

“We’re in the middle of a war. We’re always being attacked.” And with that, he was back under the covers and fast asleep. Frustrated, I threw the nearest object at him (some jeep manual).

“Get up, asshole,” I snapped. “Or I will _make_ you get up.” Tucker groaned and sat up again. Through bleary eyes and messy dreads, he glared at me.

“You’re not the boss of me…” he muttered, but he got up nonetheless.

I ran straight to the main room of the base, but I came to a screeching stop when I saw Captain Flowers.

He was sitting quietly at the table, drinking coffee and reading a magazine. He didn’t have his armor on, or his gun by his side. He was just… sitting. The guy didn’t even fucking blink when another explosion rattled the base so hard his coffee sloshed over the side of the tin cup.

“Um, Captain?” Flowers sighed and set down his magazine.

“Private…” he chided. “I told you to call me _cap._ Or _cappy._ I don’t want this rank barrier between us.” I blinked.

“Right, uh, _Cap.”_ I tried it out, then shook my head. “Yeah, I think I like ‘Captain’ better.”

“Private--” He was cut off as another explosion shook the floor.

“What the fuck?! What the hell was that?!” I shrieked. “Captain, what do we do?” He just looked at me.

“Do?”

“Yes! We’re under attack! I don’t remember what I’m supposed to do!” At that moment, Tucker ambled into the room. His armor was half off, and he yawned as he plopped down into a chair. I could feel my face turning redder by the second.

“What. The fuck.” I muttered as Tucker laid his head down on the table. “Guys! We’re in the middle of being _attacked!_ What part of that don’t you understand?!” Captain Flowers just looked at Tucker.

“Church, did you wake Private Tucker up?” he asked reproachfully. I sputtered. “You know that’s not a very nice thing to do.” Tucker mumbled incoherently.

I groaned.

“You know what? Fuck it. I’m going to take care of this myself.” I turned on my heel and stomped toward the door.

“Private--!” Flowers started, but I was already out the door.

 

I made my way to the top of the base, and took cover behind a tall pillar. I clutched my rifle tightly and pressed my back to the wall. My heart was pounding-- after all, I couldn’t remember ever being in a battle before. Except…

Another explosion made me duck down the wall even further. I shifted to the side and cautiously poked my head around the side.

“Nice one! Grif, Simmons! Hit ‘em again! Knock ‘em all the way down to the dirty hell Blue’s get sent to!”

“Yes sir!”

“Ugh, do we have to?”

Three soldiers stood outside our base. Two of them I recognized from the scouting mission yesterday: the Orange and the Maroon one. There was a third I didn’t recognize and he was the one shouting orders. He wore standard-issue red armor, which either meant he was a rookie or their CO. I assumed he was their CO.

The two soldiers held rocket launchers, both of them aimed at our base. Simultaneously, they reloaded, aimed, and--

 _BOOM!_ _  
_ In person, the explosion was loud, jarring, and, if we’re being honest, pretty fucking terrifying.

Total newbie, remember?

I ducked back behind the wall and took a deep breath. _Okay Church. You don’t have to beat them, just find a way to drive them off for now. That should be pretty easy. I just need…_

Now, remember how I said Tucker has the listening ability of a pre-schooler? Yeah, that would include when Flowers told him to clean the base. There were grenades, loose ammo, and guns scattered all over the rooftop. Lucky for my stupid ass, who forgot to bring… _anything._

I grabbed for a grenade, pulled the pin, threw it over the wall, and crossed my fingers. I counted down in my head. _3...2...1…_

“What the _fuck!”_ I heard one of the Reds screech as the grenade went off. The explosion wasn’t nearly as large as the ones from the rocket launchers, but it was a good size. I took the opportunity to whip out from the side of the wall and fire at them. I managed to land a shot or two on one of them, but they scattered pretty quickly, taking shelter behind rocks.

“Sarge, what do we do?” I could hear one of them whisper. “They weren’t supposed to attack us _back!”_ I felt a grin of triumph cross my face, and I couldn’t help but pop up from behind my own cover.

“Haha, suck on _that_ asshats!” I was forced back down as a stream of bullets peppered the base.

“Why do _you_ suck it, Blue!” The Maroon soldier shouted. “Hey, that has a nice ring to it.”

 _BOOM!_ Out of nowhere, another explosion rattled the base. I was thrown back off my feet, and my gun went skittering across the rooftop. My head slammed onto the ground, sending a splitting pain throughout my skull.

“Mother _fucker!”_ I screeched.

“Wow, nice shot Sarge.”

“Why, thank you, Grif!”

I groaned as stars danced across my vision. A severe head injury twice in two days could _not_ be good. I was just glad that I didn’t lose my memory again or anything.

My body felt like lead, and on top of that, I really did _not_ want to move, but I forced myself up anyways. I staggered a little as I regained my balanced and searched desperately for my gun. I vaguely remembered seeing it fly halfway across the rooftop, so I abandoned my search for that, and looking for anything, _anything,_ that I could use against the Reds before they managed to regroup. I picked a grenade, which I immediately sent towards the Reds, and kept looking.

The explosion at the bottom was actually rather satisfying, so I sent another towards them, prompting a high-pitched shriek. I snorted.

And then my eyes fell on it. That old, rusted gun that Flowers and Tucker love so much, but I had never really noticed. The Sniper Rifle 99-D Series 2. AKA, my life saver. Provided I could fire it.

I’d never actually _used_ a sniper rifle before, but, I reason as I snapped two rounds into place, how hard could it be?

I resumed my place behind the pillar, and carefully looked over the edge. I couldn’t see anything for quite a few minutes, and I started to wonder if the Reds had given up and gone home. I sincerely hoped so-- my head was pounding and I was about _done_ with my fucking teammates who _still hadn’t decided to show up._ I’d bet a week’s worth of rations they were both still sitting at that goddamned table.

And then it happened. A flash of Red, just what I’ve been waiting for. One of the guys apparently grew the balls to attack me, and he jumped out from behind his rock, a rocket launcher perched on his shoulder, and his finger pressing the trigger…

Time slowed down, and instinct took over. I’m not entirely sure what happened, but the next thing I know, the rocket launcher was blowing up in the face of the Red.

“Son of a _bitch!”_ he screeched as he was thrown back a good ten feet. The other two Red’s got the message, and scrambled out from behind their rocks, and hightailed it back to their base. I dropped the rifle in shock, and a bark of astounded laughter escaped me.

“Holy shit, I hit him! Hell fucking _yes!”_ I whooped and pumped my fist in the air and looked appraisingly at the gun. “You know, you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” I muttered. Maybe Tucker would have some competition for that gun.

Triumphantly, I headed back down to the base, ready to tell my team the news. I was so excited, that I didn’t even notice the aqua figure crouched on the cliffside behind me lower his gun.

“That was close…” he murmured, and disappeared into the distance.

 

* * *

 

 

“And then I was like ‘ _suck on that motherfucker!’_ and I pulled the trigger and the rocket launcher _blew up_ in his face!” Tucker sighed.

“We _get_ it, Church! You beat the Reds, good job. We heard you the first _fifty_ times.” I scowled.

“Hey, fuck you, Tucker. What were _you_ guys doing while I was up there, risking my ass?” He took a bite of his beef stew and shrugged.

“I went back to sleep. I don’t know where Cap went… probably doing yoga in the basement.”

“That was _rhetorical,_ dumbass-- wait. Did you call him _Cap?”_ He sighed.

“It was either that, or Dad.” I snorted.

“What, you have daddy issues?”

“Says the guy who doesn’t even _remember_ his dad.” I punched him and finished eating. 

But he was right, I realized later. I _didn’t_ know who my dad was. Or my mom. Or whether or not I had any siblings. I just had a vague recollection of an ex-girlfriend. Other than that… there was nothing. 

Who was I? I knew my name. I knew that I was a soldier. I knew that I was supposed to fight the Reds. After that… there just wasn’t _anything_.

I took off my helmet that night, for the first time since I woke up from my coma.

I didn’t even recognize my own face.

 


	2. Days 3-21

Day 3. 

 

I woke up yet again to explosions and an eerie sense of deja-vu. Jesus Christ, just how many mornings of this had I lived through? 

Like the day before, I jumped out of bed. I had slept in my armor, so I didn’t bother sticking around in my room. I threw the jeep manual at Tucker’s limp form and snapped at him to ‘ _ wake the fuck up, asshole,’  _ and flew out into the main room. 

Also like the day before, Captain Flowers was sitting at the table, drinking coffee out of a beat-up old cup. He still wasn’t in his armor, and was simply lazily reading his magazine. I had to take a deep breath before approaching him so I wouldn’t ‘accidentally’ punch him. 

“Sir,” I said, eyeing him. “Are we going to attack back today?” Flowers just looked at me. 

“Attack? Private, you can’t fight violence with violence.” 

“ _ We’re in the middle of a goddamn war!”  _

“And you know what wins wars? Love. Acceptance. Hate gets us nowhere.” That was it. I’m going to kill him. 

“ _ Cappy,  _ Church woke me up again….” Tucker whined from behind me. He hadn’t even bothered to put on his armor, and instead plopped down at the table. I groaned as Flowers gave me that  _ fucking _ look again. Scratch that, I’m going to kill  _ both  _ of them. 

“Fuck you guys,” I muttered, and headed outside. 

 

Again, I took shelter behind the pillar. I gripped my new battle rifle (the other one had been broken beyond repair in the fight yesterday) and gritted my teeth as another explosion hit the base. 

“Alright!” I shouted, as soon as the blasts subsided. “I’m giving you ten seconds to surrender! Or else…” 

“Dude, who’s the one with the rocket launchers again?” a nasally voice replied, and I closed my eyes briefly as the explosions resumed. That’s it. I’m going to kill  _ all  _ of them. 

I hurtled a few discarded grenades over the wall, and began to send round after round at them. They scattered like ants, ducking behind rocks again. I just kept firing, peppering the rocks with bullet holes for a solid ten minutes. 

 

I sighed as I reloaded for the fifth time, and continued to send a steady stream of rounds at them. My stomach grumbled, and my mind began to wander towards breakfast. Maybe next time, I should bring out some food or something. Not to mention, Captain Flowers’ coffee was sounding really good at the moment.

Finally, my finger clicked on the trigger. I reached for another ammo pack… but my fingers just passed through empty air. Oh shit. I was out. The Reds took advantage of the pause to leap out from behind the rocks, and I was forced down behind the pillar. I took quick inventory of my supplies: I had two grenades left, a jammed clip, a useless battle rifle and… the sniper rifle. 

I don’t know how I didn’t see the rifle before, but there it was, just where I left it yesterday, propped up against the wall in all it’s sniping-glory. I sighed in relief and grabbed for it as another blast rattled to base. 

“Okay, assholes,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “See how you like this…” 

Just like yesterday, the maroon soldier left his cover and aimed his rocket launcher. I spun in my heel, slammed the rifle down on top of the pillar, took a deep breath, aimed and-- 

_ BOOM!  _

I shrieked as I flew backwards, a fireball erupting just below my head. 

“I missed!” I barely managed to get out as I was sent tumbling across the rooftop, and rolled to a stop just before I fell off the edge. 

Dazed, I laid there on the rooftop, with the sun beating mercilessly down on me. I groaned and closed my eyes. I’m about  _ done  _ with everything in this god-forsaken canyon… and I only had two days worth of memories of it. Fuck it, I’m just gonna sleep right here. The base can go to shit for all I care.

“Dude, you’re getting your ass kicked!” crowed an amused voice from above me. I scowled instinctively and forced my eyes back open. A standard-issue blue figure was standing over me, his helmeted face angled down towards me. “Oh, hey, is that the sniper rifle?” 

“You can’t have it…” I groaned, and sat up. 

“Aw, bullshit,” Tucker muttered, not even bothering to help me up. “Here, Cappy wanted me to give this to you.” An armful of rifle clips clattered at me feet. 

“For the love of  _ god _ , please stop calling him that,” I said, but I picked up the clips anyway. I pulled out my battle rifle and began to reload. Tucker just watched, and once I was done, he turned and begins to walk away. 

“W-wait!” I sputtered. “Where are you going?” 

“Back inside,” he tossed over his shoulder. “It’s too early for this shit.” And with that, he was gone. If my face turned any redder, I think I would explode. 

“I,” I growled as I slammed the magazine into place. “Am.” I stalked back toward the pillar. “So.” I picked one of the Red soldiers, who were too busy bickering to notice me. “Fucking.” I aimed. “Done.” And I fired. 

* * *

 

 

“How’d it go today, Private?” Flowers asked as I pulled off my helmet and wiped the sweat off my face. 

“Great, no thanks to you.” He tilted his head, and regarded me with something that could only be referred to as a pout. 

“Did you not get the ammo I sent you?” I snorted, throwing my gun on to the kitchen counter, and pulling out a breakfast MRE. 

“Yeah, thanks for the back up there sir.” He nodded, my sarcasm flying completely over his head. 

“I would never leave on of my Privates out on the battlefield alone,” he said. Tucker piped up from a chair in the corner. 

“Even me, Cappy?” 

“Sure...” 

I grabbed my MRE and flopped down into a chair. 

“God, I’m tired,” I complained. “Taking on an entire army is exhausting.” Tucker snorted. 

“Dude, beating these Reds isn’t much of an accomplishment. They’re all fucking stupid.” I glared at him. 

“Shut up Tucker.” I took a bite of my disgusting breakfast and immediately cringed. “You know what…? I’m not really hungry after all.” Flowers clapped his hands together. 

“Perfect. Then I think it’s time for a little team-bonding!” Tucker and I groaned in unison. “Come on, now. Circle around,” he said, sitting on the floor. Reluctantly, we joined him. “Alright. Now, today, I want to hear about your life before the military. Did you have anyone that you could rely on? To talk to when you were upset?” Tucker snorted. 

“Fuck yeah I did.” 

“Tucker, he said  _ talk to.  _ Not bang.” He glared at me. “Like, an actual girlfriend.” 

“Hey, I had girlfriends!” He paused with a stricken look on his face. “Wait, how long do you have to be going steady to be considered ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’? I sighed. 

“More than one night.” 

“Oh.” 

“What about you, Private Church?” I sighed again. 

“How should I know? I have amnesia, remember?” 

“Just try to remember.” 

“Alright…” I said uncertainly. I tried to recall anything,  _ anything,  _ about my life before these past three days. A flash of snow comes to me. “Well, I think I had a girlfriend. Or an ex. I’m not sure.” 

“What was her name?” 

“Um…” I try to think back. I remembered me calling for her, I remembered myself saying her name… what was it? 

_ Tex.  _ I’m not sure who said it, but a little voice in my head whispered the name, and I knew, without a doubt, that was her. 

“Tex.” I repeated, her name rolling off my tongue smoothly, and it  _ fit.  _ It felt…  _ right.  _ “Her name was Tex.” An expression I barely had time to register passed over the Captain’s face, but he quickly effaced it and moved on. 

“And what do you remember about her?” They were both watching me now, studying me. I tried to ignore their prying eyes and thought back even harder.   
“The last time I saw her…” A flash of snow again, but this time it was intermixed with blood and screams. I shivered. “She was… it was crazy.” 

“What was she doing?” 

“I’m not sure it was physically possible. She was beating some guy to death with his own skull.” Tucker nearly falls backward. 

“Woah, what? Your girlfriend sounds messed up.” Inexplicably, a wave of anger flared up in me. 

“Hey, Tucker. Shut the fuck up, or _you’ll_ be messed up,” I snapped, glaring at him. He raised his hands in surrender.

“Hey, I’m just saying.” I clench my teeth, and am prepared to fly at him, when Flowers intervenes. 

“Now, now, no fighting,” he chided. “That’s very interesting, Private Church.” I snorted, still glaring at Tucker. 

“Yeah, whatever,” I muttered and pushed myself off the floor. 

“Private, where are you going?” 

“To my room. I’m done.”

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner was, as usual, crap. The only difference was that Tucker wasn’t babbling like usual, opting instead to throw the occasional dirty look my way. I reciprocated in full. 

Flowers wisely decided to skip the daily “Group Counseling” session, and disappeared somewhere pretty quickly after dinner. I didn’t know where he went, there’s only so many places to go in this goddamn canyon, but I didn’t particularly care either. Tucker retreated to our bedroom, and spent a few good hours doing…  _ something.  _ I had an idea, but I didn’t really want to know. 

For lack of any other place to go, I grabbed the sniper rifle and headed up the side of the cliff. I figured that watching the Reds make fools out of themselves would be pretty entertaining, and at the very least, some form of stress relief. Of course, it seemed that I had an endless pool of stress and irritation. Such was my life these past few days.  

I situated myself pretty comfortably on the cliffside, laying down between two boulders, and poking the scope out. 

The orange and the maroon soldier were standing on top of the roof of their base, and seemed to be chatting away. The CO was down below, working on what seemed to be a pair of… legs. I frowned. What the hell was going on at this base? 

“Hey Grif?” the maroon soldier said, his voice carrying up to where I was. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you ever wonder…?” The orange soldier turned to the maroon one. 

“What?” The maroon soldier shook his head and sighed. 

“Never mind. It’s a stupid question.” The orange one shrugged. 

“Alright.” I groaned. Jesus christ, these guys were even worse than  _ Tucker _ . “Do you want to go to the Vegas Quadrant?” 

“For the last time, I don’t want to go to the Vegas Quadrant!” the maroon one shouted so loudly their CO looked up. I shook my head. Geez, what’s  _ with _ that guy? 

“Grif! Simmons! Quiet! I’m trying to work!” The orange one sighed.

“What, on robot feet?” he snipped. Oh, so they’re building a robot. That could mean trouble. 

“Grif! The feet are the most important part!” the CO fired back. I blinked. Those words… 

“Really.” 

“In fact, they’re the most important part, I’d say!” My head started to pound. I could have sworn I’ve heard those words before...

“Sarge, it’s just a robot.” 

“Grif! When the history of these important events is written, this robot will go down as the unsung hero! The soldier who sacrificed so much for his fellow man! It brings a tear to my eye just thinking about it…”

_ <The world will never forget Private Jimmy> _ The flash of snow, and suddenly my head split open. I groaned, clutching at my temples, and abandoning all attempts to be stealthy. Snowflakes blurred in my eyes, even though we’re in a canyon, and I saw a flash of blood again. I saw Tex… no. I didn’t see Tex. I saw someone else. A green… no, not green. Aqua. 

_ <Gosh. You know, I just want to help out anyway I can. My girlfriend back home said--> _

Another flash, of brunette hair. A face I didn’t recognize. She was laughing, and I knew she was my girlfriend. But she wasn’t, this wasn’t Tex, _I didn’t know her!_ _  
__< Just sit right there while these two gentlemen take care of everything…> _

A wave of nausea overcame me, and I rolled onto my side, groaning. Feelings swelled up within me, feelings that weren’t mine, feelings that were too strong, and suddenly there were more memories, memories of space and of war and of terror and a flash of blonde hair and green eyes and the world swam and I was screaming out in pain, a name bursting out of mouth over and over and over and over and over-- 

“Don’t go!” I shrieked incoherently. “Don’t say goodbye!” 

_ <I hate goodbyes.> _

 

* * *

 

 

“Private Church?” I woke up to an aqua helmet. Captain Flower’s face was hovering over me. I could see it so clearly, and I realized my helmet was off. I squinted against the bright light and shook my head. For some reason, my head was pounding, and I was curled on my side. 

“Flowers?” I groaned and sat up. “Oh my god, my head. What happened?” Flowers removed his helmet as well and studied me, his blue eyes narrowing. 

“What do you remember?” I tried to think back. 

“Well… I went to go spy on the Reds.” I said aloud. “After that… I don’t know.” Some form of relief passed over his face. 

“Well that’s unfortunate. It’s probably a side effect of your amnesiac coma.” He offered a hand, which I gladly took. 

“You think?” I muttered, jamming my helmet back on my head. I grabbed the sniper rifle. 

“Come on, let’s get you back to base.” I nodded, and followed him down the side of the cliff. 

 

Flowers makes me go to bed earlier than usual tonight (I’m talking seven o’clock early. Seriously, I’m not a fucking kid). He must have said something to Tucker, because he’s quiet most of the night. 

I go to bed with the strangest feeling that I’m missing something. 

* * *

  
  


Day 6. 

 

 _BOOM!_ _  
_ Another early wake up call from the Red team. It’s the sixth fucking day in a row, and I’m beginning to see why Tucker and Flowers act the way they do. Seriously, where do they get all those fucking rocket launchers?! 

_ BOOM!  _

Yeah. Thanks Reds. That’s just what I needed this morning, another fucking hole in the side of our base. What do they hope to accomplish anyways? We always manage to fix the damage within a few hours, and I whip their asses for the effort. Mostly. 

I practically fell out of bed, and spent a few minutes crawling around the floor for my helmet. I actually slept in my pajamas last night, but after spending a good explosion-filled twenty minutes searching for my gloves, I decided never to do that again. 

I half-heartedly threw the jeep manual at Tucker (after all, if I’m awake, he should be too. What can I say? Misery loves company) and stumbled to the main room. 

“Hey Flowers,” I mumbled, grabbing a cup of coffee he made for me. I took a few, blissful seconds to drink it, before another blast knocked me off balance, and sent my cup to the floor. 

“That’s all yours,” I said to Tucker as he stumbled through the doorway. He groaned incoherently, and grabbed a dirty rag from off the counter. I slung my new sniper rifle over my back (the order just came in yesterday) and headed up to the rooftop. 

I amuse myself by shooting at the targets I painted onto the rocks the Reds typically hide behind, but after too many missed shots-- somehow, I think I’m getting worse at using the rifle-- I put it aside in disgust. 

“Alright!” I shouted as one of the Reds took the opportunity to fire at me. “Enough! What, five days of ass-whooping isn’t enough for you guys?” 

“Um,  _ excuse _ us, but we totally beat you yesterday,” came the reply. I launched a grenade at him. 

“Quiet, you good-for-nothing, dirty blue!” their CO shouted. “Stay still while we attack you!” I shrugged. 

“You asked for it.” And the fight commenced. 

* * *

 

I don’t really need to address the rest of the day’s events (hint, it was pretty much the same as all the other days), but I managed to take out the Red’s jeep, so I sleep pretty soundly that night. 

* * *

 

Day 21. 

“Shut up, assholes! We’re trying to sleep!” I shouted from the door to our base. I ducked inside quickly as a fireball erupted right next to my face. I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. “Jesus christ, some people have no decency,” I muttered, and sat back down at the table. 

“I agree, Private Church. That’s why we need to be better men than them,” Flowers affirmed. I nodded half-heartedly, and took a sip of my coffee. He peered at me from over the top of his magazine. “I should tell you, I need to run an errand at command tomorrow.” I frowned at him. 

“How come?” He just shook his head. 

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Private.” I shrugged. I didn’t really care, anyways. An explosion rattled our base, and I let it jostle me. 

“Alright. Well. Have fun. Pick up something good for us.” Flowers raised an eyebrow. 

“Actually, I do believe we are due for a tank.” I nearly choked on my coffee. 

“A tank?! Do you know how to drive it?” 

“Why of course I do. And I’ll be teaching you men how to drive it.” I shrugged. 

“I’m surprised, I thought you wouldn’t approve a tank.” At this Flowers frowned, and an odd expression crossed his face again. 

“I’ve gotten wind of… some things. It’s a good idea to be prepared to defend yourself.” I set down my coffee. 

“What, are the Reds going to attack?” He shook his head and gave a short bark of forced laughter. 

“Oh no, not them.” 

“Well then, what?” He sighed. 

“I can’t tell you that.” 

“You can’t tell me anything…” I muttered, then cringed. “Oh god, I’m starting to sound like Tucker.” 

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day was, as usual, uneventful. I ran a scouting a mission with Tucker, complete with hours of watching the Reds talk, bickering with Tucker over the sniper rifle, and complaint after complaint from him. Flowers was off somewhere the whole day, probably getting ready for his trip to command tomorrow. That, or just taking a nap. 

He did show up in time for our “Group Counseling Session”, though, which led to high tensions up until bed time. After a lengthy argument with Tucker, I flopped onto my bed exhausted. 

I had a nightmare that night. I couldn’t remember what it was. 


End file.
